Sub-Terranean Work Sucks Blues
Today is the kind of a brilliant day that you would like to package and keep in your back pocket to open sometime in late February. No humidity, brilliant sun, no smog and nary a cloud as far as the eye can see.
And I am strapped to a computer running down my carpels and wearing out my eyes cringing over an endless Excel spreadsheet.
Today I pause and wonder whether this is truly supposed to be our lot. Whether we domesticated the cow and plowed over the Great Plains so we could sit partitioned going gray under artificial lights blinking and chirping with mechanical regularity like slugs chained to a rusty digital wheel.
No, there has to be something better, and once I find it, I will let you know.
Keep you eyes on this space.